


Every Inch Of My Love

by PosseMagnet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bickering, Bottom Sam, Choking, Come Eating, Come play, Deep Throating, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fantasy, Hair-pulling, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Nude Photos, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest, Top Dean, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PosseMagnet/pseuds/PosseMagnet
Summary: You're laid up in the bunker due to an injury. The Winchesters are away on a job. Everyone is horny. You talk the boys through some pure porny sex over a webcam.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot write anything short to save my fucking life. 
> 
> I'm breaking this up into two pieces because it's huge. So, there's no porn in this part. Fear not though! Part two is pure, filthy, inexcusably porny porn. More tags to come. 
> 
> Stay tuned for that in another day or two. We'll all go to special hell together. 3:D
> 
> (Title is from the song "Whole Lotta Love" by Led Zeppelin.)

"Dean? Can you hear me?" You're trying to video chat with the brothers, but there seems to be some trouble on their end. Sam's laptop had been destroyed on a hunt, and he had temporarily replaced it with a tablet.

"God damnit, I can't hear her," Dean shouts, "Sam! Sammy? Where the fu–"

His curse trails off as he marches across the motel room to pound on the bathroom door.

"Damnit, Sammy," he roars. "Get in here and help me with this fucking thing."

"Jeeze, Dean. Give a guy time to finish taking a leak and get his pants up," Sam complains.

"Save it, Sammy. I can't get this tablet thing to work right. Shag ass, bitch," Dean gripes.

Sam gives Dean a shove from behind accompanied by a muttered curse. Dean doesn't go down, but he does miss a step. He rounds on Sam, slapping the taller man's cheek.

Sam gives him a withering bitchface and shrieks, "What the fuck, Dean?"

"Stop being a bitch, Sasquatch, and fix this fucking thing."

Sam tries to push Dean again, and Dean feints left and sinks his right fist into Sam's ribs. Dean goes for a cross to Sam's jaw, but Sam ducks below the blow, planting his shoulder in Dean's stomach. He flexes his thighs and Dean goes down in an awkward heap.

You sigh and rest your head in your hands. You're not looking at the screen, but you can still hear sounds of a scuffle. After a moment you contemplate shutting down the chat and letting those exasperating Winchesters call you back when they were done bickering.

However, soon the sounds of punches, thumps, and curses fades. You look up again and Dean's head is in view over the edge of the table. He's talking to Sam, "Are you done?"

"Get off me, asshole," Sam barks.

"When I'm ready. Now, calm your ass down, bitch," he says with a final slap to Sam.

Dean's face fills the screen, his look is full of his usual cool confidence.

You can hear Sam mutter, "Jerk." Then he's hefting himself off of the floor. His hair is mussed and there a pink hand print under the stubble on his cheek.

There is some back and forth between them, more civilized this time, as Dean explains the problem. Sam's face grows to fill the screen as he takes the tablet and messes with the settings.

He sets the tablet down so you can see both the brothers again. "Okay, say something now, Y/N," Dean requests.

"Hi," you say with a crooked grin.

"Hot damn, Sammy!" Dean roars and claps Sam on the back. "You fixed it!"

"Hi there, Y/N," Sam says with a warm smile, punctuated by his dimples.

"Not that I need to ask, but how's it going?" you ask, wearing a worried look.

Dean exits the frame and Sam replies, "We're, uh... going a little stir crazy."

They'd been on a hunt for almost a week. They were hunting a vengeful spirit from a local mansion. She was known when she was alive for brutally beating several of her employees to death. Being dead hadn't slowed her down much, it seemed.

You weren't with them on this because you'd broken your ankle on a black dog hunt last month. You were stuck at the bunker helping with research and fielding phone calls from other hunters.

" _You're_ going stir crazy?" you snort. " _I'll_ tell you about stir crazy."

"I know. With any luck we'll be back in three or four days," Sam says, trying to reassure you.

You make a whining noise. "That's too long. Didn't you already torch the old gal's bones?"

Dean come back into frame with a beer in each hand. He hands one to Sam and takes a pull on the other. He's the one who answers you. "We did burn the bitch, but not all of the kills fit her M.O., so we've gotta stick around for a little longer to make sure there's just the one ghost."

You whine again.

"I know, Y/N," Dean cuts in before you can say anything. "We miss you too. Sammy can't keep his hands off me when you're not around. Not that I blame him." He smirks at Sam and runs a finger over his nipple through his shirts.

Sam throws an elbow at Dean's ribs, "Shut up, asshole."

"I want you guys to come home now." You're pouting and you don't even care. You let your head drop down to the table in frustration.

You can hear the smirk in Dean's voice when he quips, "Horny, eh?"

You lift your head to scowl at him and let it fall back down. "Yes," you reluctantly admit.

"We are too," Sam confides.

You look up at the brothers again. "But, why?" you ask. "You're both-"

"Because Sam says it wouldn't be fair without you here," Dean grumbles. "He won't let me fuck him until we get home," he shoots Sam a withering look.

With a shrug you reply, "As admirable as that is there's no reason for all three of us to be miserable."

"Well, you're here now," Sam offers.

"Heh. Good thinking, Sammy," Dean says. Then he reaches over to grope Sam.

"Down, boy." Sam shoves Dean hand off his lap. "Why don't we let Y/N call the shots?"

"Ohhh. Also a good idea," Dean sniffs.

You scoff, "You mean like phone sex?"

"Sure," Dean answers, "Except we can all see each other. So, it's like... hotter."

You gradually become aware that your cheeks are burning. Blushing... you're blushing. You try to hide, but Dean sees and laughs.

"Are you laughing at me, Dean Winchester?" you pout.

He's rocking in his chair and the bastard is actually guffawing. "You son of a-" you crow. "Saaaammm..."

Sam interrupts you, "I know, I've got it." He winds up and punches Dean's arm hard.

"What the fuck, shithead?" Dean asks angrily.

Sam lowers his voice so Dean has to pay attention. "Don't be a douche."

"Right," Dean sniffs, abashed. "Sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay, Dean."

"So," Dean says, leaning back with a smirk, "I'm game if you are. Sammy's ass looks awesome in his fed suit. It's more than one man can tolerate. He won't even give me any road head."

Sam hits Dean with a caustic bitchface, and with an eye roll turns back to you.

Sam's eyebrows are bunched with worry when he addresses a question to you. "What do you think? It doesn't seem fair, since you can't be here with us, but, on the other hand, I think we can agree that we're all a little frustrated and on edge." Dean huffs out a laugh and Sam glowers at him a moment before continuing, "Some more than others, obviously. And, by your own admission, you're... I believe the word you used was 'miserable.' I know you can get off by yourself, but I'd feel better about Dean and me if you were here too." His eyebrows were still knit together with concern for you, but he gave you a sweet crooked smile, dimples denting his cheeks.

You already knew you were going to say yes. As soon as they brought it up you felt warmth spread in your belly and wetness between your legs. Sam's puppy dog eyes were the icing on the cake though.

"I'm in," you state with a grin. "How are we going to do this?"

"We keep it simple. You call the shots. We do what you tell us to do." This surprisingly succinct and reasonable response comes from Dean. Apparently the prospect of getting laid had a sobering effect on the eldest Winchester brother.

"I like it," you grin. "Do you guys have lube?" Dean snickers and you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.

"Of course we do. Sammy the Boy Scout is always prepared," Dean replies, smacking Sam's ass when he rises to retrieve the lube from his bag.

The bottle thunks down on the table to the left of the screen and Sam sits back down. "There we go. Anything else?" Sam asks.

"Nope. I wanna watch you guys kiss for a minute. Can you just kiss, please?" You sound a little desperate now that the show is on the road, but you don't think anyone notices since Dean is pulling Sam in close to nibble at his lips.

Dean's hands rest on Sam's cheeks, scratching over his stubble. His thumbs restlessly trace over Sam's cheekbones as Dean slowly kisses his way into Sam's mouth. Their tongues meet in the middle, sliding and twining against each other until Sam seals their mouths together. Sam seizes Dean's flannel shirt and pulls them in close until their chests are bumping together.

Dean winds the fingers of one hand into Sam's hair and uses his grip to position Sam's head at a more extreme angle, deepening the kiss. With a needy whine Sam climbs onto Dean's lap, straddling him.

You huff out a whispered curse before asking in a shaky voice, "Can you guys move over to the bed?"

The brothers reluctantly separate and move across the motel room. Sam grabs a chair and the tablet on his way. He sets the tablet on the chair so you're able to see them.

"What do you want?" Dean asks, his voice husky with arousal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up directly after Chapter 1.

"Take your shirts off. Both of you." You wait patiently while both men strip off their layers of shirts. "Sit on the edge of the bed, Dean. Sam, on your knees between his legs."

Dean sits, letting his bowed legs splay out to make room for the younger Winchester. Sam sinks slowly to his knees, placing his palms on Dean's thighs and leaning in to catch his brothers mouth in a deep kiss.

Dean skims his elegantly long fingers up Sam's chest, stopping over his pectorals to circle Sam's nipples with his thumbs. Sam arches into the stimulation with a quiet moan. When the soft buds of flesh harden, Dean pinches and rolls them between his fingers.

Sam breaks the kiss with a gasp. "Fuck, Dean. Harder." Dean pinches harder and tugs on Sam's nipples, making Sam's head fall back in a cascade of light brown hair.

"Bite him, Dean." Dean turns to look at you and you instruct, "Nibble his neck and bite your way down to his nipples."

With a quick growl Dean bares his teeth and pulls Sam's head back with a hand in his hair. He licks a stripe over Sam's jugular and bites the stubbly skin under Sam's chin.

With a quiet moan you unbutton the flannel shirt you're wearing (that you swiped from Dean before he left) and let it fall off your shoulders, and run a thumb over your nipple. Dean is still torturing Sam's nipples with pinches and tugs, and you mimic his actions on your own nipples. Your back arches into the touch and your mouth falls open with a gasp as your flesh runs with goosebumps.

Dean is sucking and nibbling a hickey into Sam's neck and Sam is clutching at Dean's biceps like they're going to save him from drowning. Dean nips his way down Sam's chest to lick at the hard little buds of flesh. Tiny kitten-licks and toothy grazes soon have Sam moaning and rocking his hips between Dean's legs.

"Sam," you get his attention in your breathless, husky voice. "Take his cock out."

Dean's lips are red, shiny and swollen, he sucks his lush bottom lip between his teeth as he leans backing his elbows to give Sam access. Sam pops the button on Dean's jeans and unzips his pants, spreading the opening wide so Dean's swollen cock can spring free. The head is flushed and shiny with precome. Dean groans when Sam runs his thumb over the slick cock-head and pops the finger into his mouth, licking it clean.

You moan, "Fuck. Stroke his cock, Sam. Slow." Sam does exactly as you ask. They press their foreheads together and look over at you. "You look so fucking good like this. I wish I was there. _Fuck_."

Dean notices that your shirt is open and asks, "Are you touching yourself right now?"

You bite your bottom lip and nod. You tilt your laptop screen so he can see your bare breasts and how hard your nipples are.

Both brothers hiss out a curse. " _Shit_ , Y/N," Dean says, "Will you finger yourself for us? Please. Wanna hear how hot you are for us right now."

You moan an expletive and slide off the sleep pants you're wearing (that you swiped from Sam before he left).

"Lick your fingers first," directs Sam, "Get them wet."

You shift the camera back to your face, open your mouth slightly, and slide your tongue out a little. Slowly you slip two fingers over your tongue and into your mouth. You fuck your fingers in and out of your mouth, licking and sucking at them until they're so wet drool trails down your arm. You pull them out of your mouth, connected for a moment by a long string of saliva that breaks when you draw your fingers down to your aching pussy.

The brothers are cursing and groaning, and when you slip your wet fingers between the soaked folds of your cunt and let a long, low moan skate out between your lips, both Winchesters bark, " _Fuck_ ," like it was punched out of them.

Both men have frozen and are watching you with wide eyes and open mouths. Sam's hand has frozen mid-stroke on Dean's cock. Dean's voice rumbles through your laptop speakers, rough and commanding, "Let us see. We want to see how wet you are."

You aim the camera down at your lap, and lean back, spreading your legs wide. The light is just right so they can see your hand and thighs shimmering with moisture. You slide your fingers against your g-spot and you can feel your orgasm looming hot and heavy in your core. You grind your thumb hard against your clit and rub your g-spot vigorously. The weight in your core builds until it spills over, you come all over your chair with shouted curses. You spread yourself open so Sam and Dean can see the juices leaking from between your pussy lips.

You lift your laptop screen so the camera is pointing at your face again. Both men look awestruck and Sam is the first to speak.

"Holy shit. That was amazing. What were you thinking about?" Sam asks, genuinely curious.

You grin, "I was thinking about how great the sex is going to be when you guys get home."

Dean slouches back so he's resting on his elbows. "What were we doing to you?" He asks, while Sam slides his pants down his legs slowly.

"First, Sam was fucking my mouth, while I rode your face, Dean."

"Ah, fuck," Dean curses when Sam traces his tongue over Dean's sensitive, swollen cock-head. "Holy shit, Y/N. That sounds good. Did you think about fucking us?"

"Yes," you breathe; aroused by the sight of Sam's head bobbing up and down on his brothers cock.

"How?" Dean groans as Sam slides down until Dean's entire cock is surrounded by the fluttering heat of Sam's mouth and throat. "How did we fuck you?"

"Mmm. Together," you hum.

"Fuck," Dean curses. "Where?"

"In my pussy," you say with a moan.

"Holy shit. Fuck. Can we do that when we get home?" Dean's head falls back when Sam hums his agreement around Dean's cock.

"Oh, god. Yes," you have to squeeze your thighs together as the thought of having both brothers in your pussy at the same time makes heat and moisture pool between your thighs. "That would be fucking amazing."

"Then it's a date," Dean grunts, thrusting into Sam's throat.

"Dean," you beg, "Let me see."

Dean reaches over and snags the tablet. The world shifts and tilts as he aims the tablets camera at Sam.

Then your screen is full of Sam's long hair and tan skin, and Dean's slick, flushed cock. Sam tilts his head up, hazel eyes peer at you through long lashes, his bright, clear eyes are teary from Dean fucking his throat, his chin is coated with drool and the hair around his temples is matted with sweat.

"Sam," you gasp, "You look fucking amazing."

He tips a wink in your direction, then Dean's hand comes into the frame to grasp Sam's hair tightly. He resumes fucking Sam's mouth. Sam takes it beautifully, opening his throat, hollowing his cheeks and stroking the underside of Dean's cock with his tongue.

You curse and call Dean's name. The view spins as Dean turns the tablet. Now your view is filled with Dean's liquid green eyes, pale skin and freckles. He grins at you and asks, "Yes, ma'am?"

"I wanna watch you open Sam up. I wanna watch you fuck him. Please, Dean?"

"Baby, I'll do anything you want me to do, on one condition," he bites at his bottom lip with a moan, and you can't help but wonder what Sam just did to elicit that reaction.

You tilt your head and ask, "What condition?"

"What I want, " Dean continues, "Is for you to keep those fingers of yours buried in your sweet pussy until we're all done. Make yourself come over and over while you watch us."

"Yes," you nod vigorously, already snaking your hands down to finger yourself. "Yes. I'll do that, Dean. Please. I wanna watch you fuck Sam."

"Ah, fuck. You owe me, sweetheart. This blow job is legendary," he stops with a cry. His back arches up off the bed, his eyes shut tight and his head falls back. " _Fuck_ , Sam. God damnit," he pants, "Do that again."

"Dean!" you exclaim, "Let me see! I wanna see!"

The view shifts and you see what had Dean so hot and bothered, and you have to admit, it's pretty fucking sexy. Sam pulls completely off Dean's cock, and immediately sinks back down onto it until his lips are stretched around the base. He's massaging a spot right behind Dean's balls which you know from experience sends Dean over the moon and you know he's dying to come.

Sure enough a moment later he's pleading with you, "Ah, fuck. Please, Y/N. I need to come. Shit, Sammy. Don't stop." He leaves the camera on Sam, but you can hear the strain in his voice.

"But, Dean," you tease. "I wanna watch you fuck Sam. If you come now what's he going to do?"

"I will," he gasps. "I'll fuck him so, _fuck_ , so fucking good. Just, _shit_ , please. Wanna come, Y/N."

"You can come, Dean, but I want to see both of you."

The view shifts to just over Dean's shoulder. He must have propped you up on a pillow because he's burying both of his hands in Sam's mop of hair and thrusting fast and hard into Sam's throat.

"Sammy, fuck. That feels so fucking good. Y/N, come with me. Can you?" he turns his head and his green eyes trap you like a pin traps a bug. His pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed, freckles standing out like exclamation points.

"I'm with you Dean," you moan. "Just say the word." You're close, but so is Dean, so you speed your fingers over your clit, relishing the weight of the orgasm that builds in your core.

Dean's back is arched off the bed as he thrusts into his brother's mouth. Sam's gag reflex is nonexistent as he takes Dean deep in his throat with every push.

Dean's words are a garbled mess of your name, Sam's name, and pure, filthy curses. You catch the words, "I'm coming," in between the cursing. He pulls out of Sam's mouth completely, strokes his cock once, twice, three times, and then he's coming into Sam's obediently open mouth. Thick ropes of come cover Sam's tongue, lips and chin. Droplets of pure white stand out against his stubble.

The undiluted ecstasy on Dean's face, the tension in his muscles as he comes on his brothers tongue, the way his cock twitches in his fist, Sam's face, painted with lust and come; it all pushes you over the edge. Your hips buck and shudder as your orgasm tears out of you. You shout the brothers names and they turn to watch you stroke yourself through the throes of your ecstasy. Your juices flood over your fingers as you work yourself through the aftershocks.

Once your body relaxes and your eyes are able to focus again you see Dean staring at you with a cocky grin on his face. "That was fucking hot, Y/N," he growls. He grabs Sam by the hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Dean laps his come off of Sam's chin and lips. He licks into Sam's mouth and sucks his come off of Sam's tongue too. The sight makes you moan a curse.

"Someone get those pants off Sam, please," you wheeze.

"On it," Dean says, tossing Sam to the side. He's on his knees over Sam's thighs in one smooth motion. While he works Sam's belt and pants open he bends to suck the skin around Sam's belly button into his mouth. He locks his teeth around it and bites down hard enough to bruise. Sam arches and groans Dean's name. Dean lets the skin slip out of his mouth with a lick. He teases more kisses and bites around the hard plane of Sam's abdominals, dipping his tongue into Sam's belly button and nibbling along the bony protuberances of Sam's hip bones.

He slips off Sam's thighs and works his brothers pants and boxer briefs down his hips, pulling them off with a flourish.

Sam's cock slaps against his belly with a wet sound. "Sam. Show me," you order. You're not surprised at all, when the view changes to a closeup of Sam's toned belly, to see a wet splat of precome standing out against his tanned skin.

"Dean?" you inquire. When his face appears next to Sam's leaking cock you say, "Dean, clean him up first."

Dean licks a wide, wet stripe up the underside of his brothers cock. Sam moans and his cock twitches under Dean's tongue. He laps at the spot on Sam's stomach, then traps the fat head of Sam's cock in his mouth. Dean's soft, plump lips are stretched around the tip of Sam's dick, he's wriggling his tongue into the slit, tracing around the edge of the head and sucking the jerking, sensitive flesh.

You can't see Sam, but the hand that isn't holding the tablet is fisted in the sheets. His hips jump and shudder; it's all he can do to not thrust into Dean's mouth right now.

Dean sucks him slow, twisting his head to swirl around Sam's shaft. He grips Sam's hips to keep his younger brother from hurrying him along.

"Fuck, Dean. Go faster, _please_ ," Sam begs. Dean shakes his head and pops off of Sam's cock with an obscene noise.

Sam whines. Dean shakes his head with a laugh and says, "I'm just cleaning you up. Following orders, Sasquatch. Flip over."

"You fucker," Sam grumbles as he flips over.

"You love me, bitch," Dean quips.

Sam's "Jerk" turns into a moan as Dean licks over his tight asshole.

Somehow the tablet ended up underneath the brothers. Your view is incredible: Sam's legs spread wide, cock bobbing and twitching and dripping precome onto the mattress; Dean licking at Sam's tight ass while his own cock starts to fill again and grow heavy between his legs.

It's decadent perfection.

Dean is lapping at Sam's hole, soft-tongued kitten licks, broken up with firm, stiff-tongued pushes. Soon enough the muscle melts under Dean's attention and his tongue starts to disappear inside of Sam.

Sam is rocking and pushing back against Dean, fucking himself on his brothers tongue. "Dean, _fuck_. So good. I need more, Dean. Please, use your fingers. _More_." Sam knows he's whining but he doesn't give a damn.

Sam's hole is glistening with spit when Dean pops two fingers into his mouth. He swishes them around for a second and they come out trailing drool. He quickly pushes both fingers into Sam's ass.

Sam grunts and reaches between his legs to stroke his thick, heavy cock. He slicks precome over his shaft and squeezes as he pumps himself.

"Sam," you call sharply.

"Huh?" he calls, distractedly.

"Don't you come like this, Sam," you tell him. "Touch yourself all you want, but I wanna see you come on Dean's cock. Okay?"

A long low groan is followed by, "Sure. I mean, _fuck_ , yes. _Shit_. Okay."

Dean is the source of Sam's distraction. He's opening him up with brutal efficiency. Scissoring him open with two fingers, then adding lube and a third finger.

Sam is jacking himself faster now. His cock glitters with moisture, every blurt of precome is captured and used to slick the way for Sam's tight fist.

"C'mon, Dean," moans Sam. "God. Just, ah, fuck me. Shit, Dean, please." His voice is husky, desperate, it goes shrill every time the calloused pads of Dean's fingers stroke against his prostate.

"Not yet, baby boy," Dean growls.

Sam's hand on his cock has slowed. He's moaning and begging Dean to fuck him already.

"Be patient, Sammy. I want to show Y/N how fucking good your ass looks right now," Dean says as he fumbles around for the tablet. He picks it up, aims it at himself, immobilizes you with his moss green eyes and finishes with a sly grin, "I'm hoping I can get her to come again for me before I fuck you. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

You bite your lip and nod. Your fingers on your clit had nearly stopped, but Dean's filthy mouth would have you there in no time.

"Let me see, Dean," you ask.

Sam's resting his forearms on the mattress and his head on his forearms. This puts his ass in the air for Dean and still lets him relax a little. You can see fine tremors shuddering through Sam's glutes and thighs. Dean's stubble has left red patches on both of his cheeks, which are otherwise pale. The main event though, is Sam's stretched and puffy rim. Dean has used a lot of lube, it squelches when he pushes his fingers in and dribbles out of Sam whenever Dean pulls his fingers out. As you watch Dean works his pinky finger in next to the others.

Sam groans and pushes back against Dean. He starts begging again, "Please, Dean. Feels so good. Just fuck me please. I need to come, Dean. God, fuck, Dean, _please_."

"Hush," Dean says, trying to pacify Sam for a moment. "How you doing there, baby girl? You ready to come for me yet?"

Your fingers deftly move in and out of your soaked cunt, your thumb circles over your clit, and you're so close, but not there yet. You tell Dean this and his face fills the screen again.

"I can't wait to get home, baby," Dean croons, "I've been thinking about what I wanna do to you. As soon as we get back I'm going to lay right down on the table in the library so you can sit on my face like you wanted. I'm going to eat your pussy until you can't remember anything but my name."

Dean's gravelly voice burns through you, alighting the fire in your core. You moan a curse as Dean continues to purr filth at you.

"I'm going to make you come like that until my face is soaked in your juice and you're too weak to stay upright anymore. Then I'm going to lay you down and fuck you with my fingers until you beg me to stop. Then, I might let you suck my cock for a little while, but what I really want to do next is spank your ass until it's red and hot and you can feel it throbbing. That way when I slip my fat, dripping cock into your tight, wet pussy you'll feel every single thrust right in your hot little ass."

"Dean," you breathe.

"I'm gonna fuck you real slow, at first. I really wanna hear you beg, sweetheart. Beg me to go faster, beg me to go harder, beg me to be rougher. Maybe I'll bury my cock deep inside of you and pull your hair, or maybe I'll slide my hand around your throat and squeeze. Not so much that you can't breathe, but just so it's hard to breathe. Your head'll start to spin a little and then, that's when I'll fuck you hard. Really pound into you. You're going to feel me for days afterward, baby. I wonder if I can make you squirt for me? Wouldn't that be nice? If you came all over the table we eat at, and do research at? Every single time we sat at that table we'd think about you coming so hard you squirt all over the table."

"Oh, fuck," you're right on the edge now. You could come right this second, but you desperately want Dean to finish his story. So you ask, "What's next Dean?"

He chuckles, "Oh, you're close, baby. I can hear it. You want me to finish you off?"

"God, yes, Dean, please," you beg.

"After you go I'm going to be so ready to come. Now, I could come inside of you, but your ass is so red and inviting. So I'm gonna pull out, stroke my cock just a couple times and I'm going to come all over your gorgeous, sore ass. When I'm done I'm gonna lay you down and clean you up. I'll lick every drop off of you. My tongue is going to feel so good on your sensitive cheeks," here he stops to rub his cheeks and chin, fingers loudly rasping over his stubble, "but my stubble is going to make the burn start fresh again."

The orgasm that's been building since Dean started speaking crests and washes over you like a tsunami. Your brain fritzes and all you can manage is to shout Dean's name over and over as you come.

It must take a couple minutes for your brain to come back online, because both Sam and Dean's faces greet you onscreen. They're smiling, but their eyes are concerned. "Hi. I'm fine. Quit worrying," you gripe.

"Alright, alright. Just checking," Dean soothes.

"Can you fuck me, Dean? For crying out loud. I don't want to wait any more," Sam's head is resting on Dean's shoulder, but his pout and puppy dog eyes are aimed right at you.

Dean looks at you and tilts his head slightly. His cool green eyes are open wide and his bottom lip pokes out at you.

You giggle and hold a hand in front of your eyes. "Come on now, guys. I can't have you both looking at me like that. No human woman can stand the sight of both Winchester brothers pouting at her at the same time," you pout back at them.

You hear them both bark out a laugh so you uncover your eyes.

"Before I explode from all this pouty-ness," you say with an eye roll, "Could someone please fuck Sam already."

Sam groans with relief and asks, "How?"

"On your back, to start," you say.

Sam flops his long-limbed frame back onto the bed. He spreads his legs wide, and takes his cock in hand. Among the stark white motel sheets and pillows Sam's muscular, tan frame makes him look like a god fallen to earth. His dexterous fingers circle his stiff, heavy cock. His other hand drifts down to his balls. He tugs and squeezes them, eliciting a moan. Nimble fingers drift farther, to his stretched hole. He dips two fingers inside of himself, stroking against his prostate. He jerks and calls out his brothers name.

"I gotcha, little brother," Dean places a hand on Sam's thigh to soothe him. Dean is slicking up his cock, his hand glides smoothly over his shaft with a flick of his wrist to twirl around the crown.

He settles in between Sam's legs, and eases down to let their cocks slip and slide against each other. Dean reaches down and wraps his hand around around both of them and strokes their cocks a few times. Sam bucks his hips and gives a strangled cry.

"Dean, _fuuuck_ , please. I can't wait anymore," Sam says crossly.

Dean grins at him, "You're such a control freak."

He pushes Sam's legs back and lines up, pushing forward to breach Sam's tight heat. Both of the brothers groan as Dean advances. Despite being stretched out so thoroughly, both of the Winchesters are _very_ well endowed, so it's still a tight fit.

Once Dean is fully seated, hips pressed flush with Sam's ass, Dean rests his forehead against Sam's. The younger Winchester pleads, "Dean, fuck, please move. You feel so fucking good, but you gotta move."

You've seen the brothers together many, many times since your little partnership-slash-threesome was assembled, but it has never once failed to take your breath away. There are times when you all are together that you just sit back, a fly on the wall, and watch them together. The interplay between them is beautiful. They can go from petty sibling bickering to absolute smoldering passion on a dime.

Dean starts thrusting into his brother and Sam's face goes angelic with ecstasy. He grips the sheets and rocks his hips up to meet Dean's. His body looks like liquid given human form. Bending and flexing, slick with sweat. He's radiant.

Sam's gentleness is contrasted by Dean. Dean is a captive animal, an apex predator. Grunting and growling, biting his way along Sam's neck. The globes of his gorgeously round ass flexing and straining as he fucks into his brother. His muscles bunch and stretch, accentuated by the sweat that traces its way down his body.

"Dean," you call, shaking off your awe.

He continues thrusting, but turns to look at you.

You gesture, "Flip him over, please. Finish him from behind. Make him come, Dean."

Sam flips the second Dean has pulled out all the way. He immediately reaches behind him, trying to slip Dean back in. Dean slaps his hand away. Sam lets his head fall in frustration, but sits passively and waits for Dean.

He doesn't take it slow pushing in this time. He lines himself up and drives in with one smooth motion. He sets a punishing pace, fast, hard, and deep.

Sam is making little noises, groans and grunts interspersed with words: mostly "Dean" and "Please."

You've been so focused on the brothers you completely forgot your promise to Dean, and you haven't been trying to make yourself come since they started fucking. Now with Dean pounding into his brother you moan at the sight and return your fingers to your drenched pussy. You could probably come just from watching, but you know Dean's going to ask. He'll be disappointed if you don't come on your fingers like he told you.

Watching them like this makes you think of Dean's fantasy from earlier and inspiration strikes. "Dean!" you exclaim. When he looks your way, you say, "Pull his hair, Dean."

Almost immediately Dean makes the connection between your request and his relayed fantasy. He winds his fingers into Sam's long mop of hair and ratchets him upright. Dean uses his hand in Sam's hair to bend his head back and throws his other arm around his brothers chest. In addition to the delectation of having his hair pulled this has the effect of adding near constant stimulation to Sam's prostate.

Sam shouts, "Fuck. Yes, Dean. Wanna come, please, Dean."

"Come on, baby boy." Dean rasps. "Come for me. I wanna hear you."

Sam clings to his brothers arm as Dean pounds into him, rhythmic and relentless. His cock jerks, and he cries out Dean's name, and comes, untouched, painting his legs and the sheets with hot stripes of come.

The sight settles you on the razors edge of your orgasm. You desperately want to finish with Dean, so you raggedly cry his name.

At the sound of your voice his rhythm stutters. He loosens his grip on Sam, letting him fall forward, and rides the pulsing aftershocks that clench and flutter through Sam's muscles. Dean spirals toward his own release.

"Ah, fuck," Dean grunts, "Y/N, come on, baby. Come with me. One more time just for me."

The command, the sound of Dean's gravelly voice, it goes right to your clit and a second later your pussy clenches around your fingers and wetness floods over your hand. You scream your pleasure out for Dean and Sam.

Dean watches you come with a groan. He seizes Sam's hips and buries himself deep inside his younger brother. He chants your name and Sam's, the two sounds mixing into incoherence when he starts to come, cock twitching, the hot, slick slide wrenches a moan out of Sam.

Dean continues to thrust through the aftershocks, folding over his brothers back as he slowly stills. He gently helps Sam straighten his legs and lie down flat. Dean slips out of Sam carefully and nestles in next to his brother.

Dean props his head up on one hand and grins at you, "Enjoy the show, sweetheart?"

"Very much," you reply with wide eyes and a somber nod. "That was hot." It sounds idiotic coming out of your mouth, but your brain is so scrambled it's all you can come up with.

"Yes," Dean says in a reassuring tone, "Yes you were, baby. Very hot. I can't wait to get home to you."

"Me too," Sam pipes up. "Miss you," he slurs and snuggles in next to Dean. The eldest Winchester throws him a mock-disgusted eye roll, before throwing an arm over his younger brothers chest and pulling him close.

"So, it's late," you reluctantly supply, "I haven't been sleeping since you two left and suddenly I am exhausted. I'm going to scoot."

"Sure thing, Y/N," says Sam. "You need your rest so that ankle will heal."

"Yeah. I know," you shrug, "It feels better though."

"That's good," Dean says, "Still, get some rest. I'm going to get Sasquatch here in the shower and into bed too."

"Oh, Sam!" you exclaim.

He raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Please make sure Dean gets some road head on the way home," you giggle.

Sam salutes you with a nod, "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, baby," Dean chuckles, "I owe you for that one."

"I know you do," you say with a sigh, "I'm going to go now. I miss you both. Come home safe. Love you."

"We will, baby," Dean says with a wink. "We love you too, Y/N."

Sam kisses his hand an blows it in your direction before you end the chat.

\---

When you get out of the shower you have a text message from Dean. It's just a pic of Sam in the shower. Nude, wet and soapy, he's rinsing his head in the spray. He's beautiful, rivers of soap trail down his chest and drip off his half hard cock.

\---

Ten minutes later Sam sends you a photo of Dean, naked, fresh out of the shower, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. His biceps gleam with moisture, his hair is free of product, tousled and wild, the globes of his ass and his bowed legs are perfect in this light. His cock is also half hard.

You send one text before you drift off to sleep. It says, "You two are too pretty to go to sleep with hard ons. Fix it."

\---

The next morning you wake to a text from Sam. It's several photos. One is of a ring of hickeys around his neck.

Another is a photo of his tanned, muscular torso, punctuated with purple rings of bite marks around his nipples and belly button.

Then there's some text that reads, "Nobody went to bed hard. Are you free tonight for round two? ;-)"

The last photo is of the brothers. Heads together, bottom lips poked out, eyes wide and pleading. Pouting.

You almost break you phone trying to respond.


End file.
